


A public scandal - like usual

by blueelvewithwings, emotionalmorphine, Green_Sphynx



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anders is angry, Fenris is famous, M/M, Telephone Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 08:06:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueelvewithwings/pseuds/blueelvewithwings, https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionalmorphine/pseuds/emotionalmorphine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Sphynx/pseuds/Green_Sphynx
Summary: A good morning with an excellent free muffin is rudely spoiled by a bigoted elf. Anders won't let that stand.Too bad he had no idea who he was berating until it was far, far too late,





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter by EmotionalMorphine

Dorian was nattering on about something. Truthfully, Anders had stopped listening a while ago but in his defence it was eight in the morning and he hadn’t had his cup of coffee yet. It was too early to be discussing the benefits and drawbacks of force magic and the dilation of space. It was actually giving him a headache. Or the headache was from the lack of sleep he had gotten last night. Or the lack of caffeine in his system.

It was probably all three.

Dorian pushed open the door to the Charge In coffee shop, their new favorite ever since it opened a few months ago. It was run by a big Qunari guy cheerfully named “The Iron Bull”, article absolutely imperative. And Dorian had a little bit of a crush that Anders was going to tease him mercilessly about until he did something about it. Which, knowing Dorian, would probably be never.

“Having your usual?” Dorian asked. The shop was busy, as usual, a line for the counter and a group waiting for coffee. All the tables were full of breakfast goers and the wonderful smells of bacon, eggs, coffee, and fresh juice permeated the air.

Anders nodded, basking in the atmosphere like a pleased cat. He wasn’t looking forward to the day ahead but right now he was happy.

They stood in line and inched their way closer until Dorian could order his hazelnut mochaccino, skim milk, no whip, and Anders’ black coffee, largest size available, extra shot. Krem grinned at them as he wrote down their order and said something to Dorian that Anders didn’t catch but had Dorian flustered enough that he was blushing.

Anders did notice the two free muffins that were pushed across the counter. And the Bull’s muffins were to die for. Anders eagerly snatched his up as they moved to wait for their coffee. It was blueberry today, full of berries and with a crumble top that was buttery and sugary and delicious.

Anders didn’t even notice as Dorian slunk away to the very end of the counter where a certain large Qunari was waiting.

Nor did he notice the increase in activity in the store. The quiet whispers. The burst of mobile phone activity. He was happily enjoying his muffin, making sure he got every last bit of crumble from the wrapper along with every blueberry smear.

“There is still a need for Templars,” a voice said from nearby. “Mages cannot be trusted. Magic is dangerous.”

Anders could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise and he frowned. Great, and he had just been enjoying his morning.

“Templars don’t exactly have a sterling reputation,” another voice said in reply.

“And neither do mages. The atrocities committed by mages in this world should remind us that they are a danger to themselves and others. They cannot be allowed free rein to use their magic as they see fit with no consequences. Truthfully, they should still be locked up and–”

Anders spun around. “Excuse me?” he blurted. “Locked up? Mages are not prisoners. We are not criminals! How dare you say that we should be locked up!” He stared down at the man who had been speaking. He had dark skin and whirls of white tattoos that wound up his bare arms and ran up his neck to his chin. His companion was a great bear of a man with thick arms and so much beard Anders thought one might get lost in it. He had a strange scar that ran across the bridge of his nose that looked red against his pale skin.

The shorter man - an elf, Anders noted - looked up at him and his eyes narrowed. “I was unaware I was speaking to you,” he said. “This is none of your business.”

Anders put his hands on his hips, scrunching his muffin wrapper in his fist. “You made it my business with your bigoted comments. How dare you even suggest something like that.”

“Mages cannot be trusted to use their magic freely. The laws have become far too lenient.”

“And what, you think that we should all be locked up again? Trapped in Circles with Templars watching our every step. Never allowed to see the outside. Never allowed to see our families again. Never allowed to be free?”

“If it stops mages from hurting others, then yes.”

Anders could just about feel the sparks tingling at his fingertips. If he was one of those mages this man thought were just running loose all over the place, he would have shot lightning up his ass at the first bigoted comment he made. But Anders wasn’t like that. But he also wasn’t going to just let someone get away with those sort of comments.

“Mages have been treated as slaves for centuries. You speak of the atrocities mages have committed? That is nothing in comparison to the countless mages who were killed by Templars. The countless mages who ended their own lives because they were taught to believe that they were evil. The countless mages who felt they had nothing to live for. Children who were ripped away from their parents and locked in towers. Children who were abused by Templars! The very people who were sworn to protect them.

The Circles were never an answer - they were a way to cage mages in a way that the Chantry could handle them and use them for their own gains!” Anders was well aware that his voice was rising. And that people were watching now. Dorian and Bull were wide eyed and staring and the whole coffee shop had gone quiet.

Maker, people were filming this on their phones… Anders could feel the heat rise in his cheeks. Well, if people were going to film this then he may as well make his argument a good one.

“Mages are not inherently evil, no more than any man. Magic is a gift from the Maker, not a curse bestowed upon those he reviled. If some mages have committed acts of evil then it is a drop compared to the ocean of atrocities the Chantry permitted in the act of containing magic.

There was no concern for the mages left to starve in dark towers, there was no leniency for those who were accused of using blood magic. They were killed. Left to die. Beaten and abused so badly that they believed ending their own lives was the only way out. The Mage/Templar war was the uprising of those without a voice - those who had been silenced for centuries by fear. It started mages down the path to freedom.

How can you honestly say that we should return to life like that? What sort of evil person are you that you would agree to the caging and slavery of people - good men and women, children! - all because you are a scared, pathetic excuse of a human. You, as an elf, should know better. How dare you.”

Krem was just sort of…holding their coffees. He met Anders’ eyes and Anders stormed over and grabbed the two takeaway cups. The coffee house was still silent, the cameras not pointed at him any longer but on the elven man who was staring at Anders, his fists curled at his sides. He looked furious. Good.

“Dorian?” Anders asked.

Dorian opened his mouth and then closed it. He gave Bull a beseeching look but the Qunari just shrugged. Dorian hurried over and took his cup. In true Dorian style he bowed to the crowd before he and Anders left the coffee shop.

“And here I was believing you were mild-mannered and kind. I’ve never seen you get quite so enraged,” Dorian said as they walked back towards the University.

“I can’t stand people like him! Just…speaking those sort of comments out in the open like he has every right to those opinions!”

Dorian looked at Anders critically. He took a long sip of his coffee until Anders stared back.

“What? What is it? Did I make my whole speech with blueberry on my face?” Anders wiped at his scruffy chin.

“You have absolutely no idea who you just berated, do you?”

“No…should I?”

Dorian laughed. Laughed until Anders thought he might snort milk out of his nose (as if someone as composed as Dorian ever would). “Well, my friend, aren’t you in for a treat. I will give you a hint. When you get to your office, Google “Fenris Lowell”. I think you will be pleasantly surprised.”

Anders frowned as he sipped his bitter coffee. Was Dorian having him on? Was this Fenris some sort of upper class social butterfly that Dorian spent his time with at those fancy parties? Anders wasn’t interested in faux celebrity - or even real celebrity - gossip.

When he got back to his office the first thing he did was slip into his chair, coffee forgotten on his desk.

“Fenris Lowell…” He typed the name into the search bar and waited.

The results flashed up on the screen.

“…nooo,” Anders groaned and he put his head in his hands as his own face flashed up at the top of the results.

_Fenris lambasted by local mage in full coffee shop - Should mages be free?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by blueelvewithwings

Fenris sighed as the door of his office slammed close behind him, and he rather unceremoniously dropped into his chair and put his coffee down on his desk. Well that was just a morning like he did not need it. Getting into an argument even before work, even before coffee, was not like he had been planning to start the day. And argument about mages, no less.

Grumbling to himself, he started his computer and sipped his coffee, cursing as he burned his lip. Well, this was just going great.

Mages, he grumbled under his breath as he logged into his computer, and then without really thinking about it, he found himself googling one Dorian Pavus. Hawke had mentioned that he had recognised him, apparently he was a professor for some magic something or other at the local university, so maybe he could get some information on the freak that had shouted at him earlier to get an idea about who he was. Clearly, he was insane.

Just a few minutes later, he had a picture on his screen, of this morning’s freak with a cat in his arms, smiling happily. Anders Thekla was his name, apparently. According to his CV that was on professor Pavus’ page he was an assistant to the professor, and also worked in a clinic in the seedy district in town, which he claimed to do completely for free and to help the poor. Bullshit.

It seemed that the trash he had been sprouting his morning was a major constant in his life, seeing as he was very active in just about any organisation in the city and country that were fighting for mage rights.

Mage Rights. Pfah.

But Fenris was nothing if not curious, so just a little while later he found himself reading one of the pdfs that had been posted on Anders’ page, simply called The Manifesto.

And by noon, he had a file of his own where he was critiquing the thing, pointing out what ridiculous notions this Anders guy was talking about and how what he was saying was dangerous and had to be boycotted. Maybe if he published it people would read it…

He was nothing if not thorough though, so when he came upon further and further hints about the mistreatment of mages in the Circle, that he could not simply deny without having taken a deep look into it, he opened his browser back up and started to search again.

When he thought about it, really thought about it, maybe there really were things about the Circle that would need to be improved. Fenris was totally convinced that it was right that mages should never leave the Circles, but was taken aback to find out that even children could not be visited by their family. Mages were evil, surely, but children should still be able to see their parents, right?

He found the official Chantry regulations on how mages had to be treated within the Circles, and for the first time he really sat down and read them. Start to finish, and without a break. And once he was done he leaned back, closing his eyes. One of the sentences that Anders had written in his manifesto came back to him.

We just want to be treated like a person.

And maybe… maybe he did have a point there. Maybe treating mages like less than persons were indeed what made them evil… what pushed them to blood magic.

If you tell a person long enough that they are cursed, they start to believe it. They start to act it.

His gaze fell on his markings, and for the first time ever, he thought that maybe he was not so different. Danarius had kept him like a pretty thing, a pretty, dangerous thing, to be kept caged and to be unleashed and set loose on his enemies if needed. He had never believed himself to be cursed, but he had been told he was nothing more than a pet and a weapon. And he had started to believe it. He had become nothing more than a pet and a weapon.

Maybe that was what Anders was trying to say, that mages were not inherently evil but that it was the Chantry and the Circle who taught them to be like that….

He knew that the Circles had been abolished a little while ago, but most mages had still been taught in one, or had even grown up there. Even if they were allowed to go free now the influence of the Circles and the Chantry was still very much there and Fenris knew that it would take a lot of time to fade, maybe a generation or more.

His thoughts drifted off to Bethany, who he liked despite her being a mage. To Hawke, who always tried to teach him not to be so harsh to mages, who tried to tell him that things were different in the south. And about Merrill, who he still didn’t trust, but who did not seem evil despite her admitted use of blood magic.

Maybe this Anders guy did have a point. It wouldn’t do to oppress mages so much they turned into monsters. But still, they could not simply run free. They still had to be controlled, there was too much power on their hands to let them go unchecked.

His hands wandered over the markings on his arm, and he sighed. Hawke often tried to teach him to let go of his anger and his hatred, and he wanted to. It was just so hard.

He often got asked if he was thankful to Danarius, since he had given him the signature tattoos and since his rescue from the mage had gotten him a lot of attention and a contract with a major modelling agency.

Not that he cared much for the modelling. He was good at it (according to the media) and so it paid his bills since everyone wanted to put their clothes on him or just get some other sort of photoshoot or TV ad with him. He was much happier here, in his office, working for Hawke’s company, where no one treated him any different for who he was and what happened to him.

He scoffed, shaking his head again at the notion that he should be thankful for Danarius. The man was in jail now, but if he ever met him again he would probably just rip out his heart and be done with it. Show him what a fine weapon he made.

He sighed and closed the browser tab, getting back to the google search he had started about Anders in the first place. He swallowed when he found a little note from the Institute of Magic at the university, stating that the faculty was giving their condolences to Anders Thekla for losing his husband after a short period of illness. It was only a few weeks old.

Maybe that was why he had reacted so harshly this morning? That was what grieving people tended to do sometimes.

But then, after having read through so much about mage treatment today, he did not find it in him to simply blame the mage’s emotions on his reaction. There was more to it than that.

He sighed and opened his email client, scrubbing his hands over his face.

He did not like to admit it, but maybe an apology was in order. He had spoken out of turn this morning. He should write him before he went to the media with it and their fight would be all over the papers, like it most likely already was.

He was just about to compose another email when he saw that there already was one from the very person he was just thinking about contacting.

 

From: _Anders Thekla_

Subject: Our fight on mages this morning


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by GreenSphynx

Of course Anders had sent an apology.

Well, an apology for the way he had... perhaps overreacted a little without asking for the man’s reasons first. Not an apology for his _opinions_. He merely knew now that he had not chosen the right approach and he better fix it before things blew up.

Even if this Fenris would not have his revenge personally, his fans sure would.

So he’d written the man an email to apologise for his rash actions, promising it wouldn’t happen again and if maybe he’d be willing to sit down for coffee somewhere quieter to discuss their differing views like adults - apologies again - because he’d hate to have Fenris remember this morning as another reason to hate mages.

He feared Fenris would see straight through it, because obviously his hidden agenda was to not get in trouble, but with a bit of luck Fenris was eager enough to get a chance to shout back.

Nobody needed to know Anders had to reread and edit the mail four times to get out his angry arguments and get in his well-placed apologies. Not even Justice who was giving him heavily disapproving frowns from across the office - damn the man and his sixth sense for lies and deception, or injustices as he liked to say.

In any case, he had not expected to hear his phone’s notification of an email a bare two minutes later; even less so that being Fenris’ agreement and a time and place for coffee.

Anders checked the time on his screen and stiffened.

_A time only an hour from now, and a place across town._

“Dorian? I need to head out now but I’ll finish this paper for you tonight!”

He grabbed his coat and was already halfway out of the office before Dorian’s head poked out from behind the atrocious plant Merrill had placed on the professor’s desk.

“That’s a sudden hurry; something I need to worry about?”

“Only if the papers say ‘Fenris Lowell rips out local mage’s heart’ tomorrow morning,” he joked nervously, fleeing before Dorian could get another question in.

He was screwed.

 

Fenris was easy to spot, even with huge sunglasses. Anders had to wonder why he was putting effort into being incognito if he had walked around so openly that morning, but then again he did ask for a more quiet place in his mail.

The burly bearded man was not in sight this time, even if Anders was pretty sure the guy was a bodyguard now. What else could a guy like that be next to a supposed celebrity?

He sat down carefully, not making any sudden moves as if afraid to startle the elf, and offered an apologising grin. Sort of. The curve of a dark eyebrow over the rim of the sunglasses suggested it came out as awkward as he felt.

“Good to see you again Serah uh, Lowell. Do I call you that or are you one of those people who prefer their first name? I sure prefer my first name so call me Anders. Yes, Anders Thekla-” He held out his hand to shake Fenris’, a flush already creeping on his face over his own awkwardness. Starting with a small word vomit, always the best way to make someone like you.

Ha.

Surprisingly, Fenris seemed charmed by it, his features already a little softer when he took off his sunglasses to hook them in his shirt before taking the offered hand.

But Maker, he was gorgeous.

Anders cleared his throat, and he could swear his blush was growing brighter and hotter just from the thought.

“Fenris is fine, _mage_.”

....and there went all the nice thoughts, right back down the drain.

“Yes, about that.” His grip on Fenris’ hand tightened, his smile tightening equally and becoming strained. “I understand I was a bit too rash earlier today, but I would still like to argue my point. You can’t judge all mages on the misbehaviour of a few.”

“Misbehaviour, you say?” Fenris’ grip tightened in turn, and suddenly Anders wasn’t so sure about that handshake anymore. Not only was it beyond awkwardly long by now, Fenris had _quite_  the grip. He probably worked out.

Of course he did, with a job like his.

Anders tried to subtly retract his hand, but it was only with an extra threatening squeeze from the elf’s side that he was released.

“That word might be understating it,” he admitted grudgingly. “But my point stands. Generalising all mages into the category of heartless bastards like- like the one from your personal experience, is not only unjust but also dangerous. Many innocents have suffered heavily under this prejudice, and still do, without ever having harmed anyone with their magic.”

“So you think you’re harmless then?”

Anders spluttered, sitting back sharply to look the other up and down. Was he just fucking with him now? He looked mildly amused, but the vitriol of the words was not in his tone nor expression.

“No more or less harmless than anyone on the street! I may have magic, but another man may carry a gun and kill another as easily!”

“Another man can put that gun down. He is not constantly armed.”

“You think I haven’t tried?” Anders hissed, angry - no _pissed_  - at the implications. At the gall of this man. He wanted to give him a piece of his mind properly, again, but that’s what got him in trouble last time. He had to physically close his eyes and take a deep breath to calm himself down and stop before he blew up in this guy’s face again.

When he opened his eyes a waitress was standing next to their table, looking terribly awkward and mildly flustered.

“Coffee, black. Your largest size.”

Fenris smiled thinly at Anders’ order before looking up at the girl. “I’ll have the same. I’m going to need it.”

“That’s _my_  line,” Anders groused, but he had already managed to draw himself back from that anger of before. It came out less angry, more playful, and it was a relief to see Fenris react in kind.

The elf seemed to be more reasonable than earlier. He was baiting Anders, but he didn’t seem as bigoted as before. Anders could almost swear he was actually trying to get Anders to argue his point, rather than meaning to attack him. Like he truly wanted to know.

Maybe that was just Anders’ imagination, but it was a great improvement anyway.

“Are you always this hot tempered, mage?”

“My colleague actually called me mild-mannered and kind, so I suppose it’s just you who brings out the fire in me.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

Anders sighed, finally relaxing as a large coffee was slipped in front of him, wrapping his fingers around the hot cup. “No idea, actually.”

Fenris gripped his cup in the exact same way, a small - and surprisingly hesitant - smile playing over his lips.

“I suppose I should find out for myself then, Anders Thekla.”

 


End file.
